


I love him. (He knows this and he loves you.)

by ElectroMagneticPulse



Series: Slice of Life 'Verse [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Humor, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Probably Crack, Probably ooc, happy early Christmas y'all, no beta we die like my diet on Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectroMagneticPulse/pseuds/ElectroMagneticPulse
Summary: In the condensation from his breath against the cold glass of a library window, Albus drew a frowny face and watched the image fade from existence. Term was drawing to a close, but instead of his best friend/boyfriend sitting across from him in the crowded library, a first year Ravenclaw was muttering to herself over a charms textbook. Albus had briefly considered offering help before admitting that she probably knew more in her first term at Hogwarts than he knew in his six and a half years. She didn’t even look up when he slumped against the window and proceeded to doodle on it.“Scorpius would have noticed,” he mused petulantly, thinking of his erstwhile companion, “He would have noticed, and reached across the table to add a moustache.”
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter
Series: Slice of Life 'Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/546496
Kudos: 6





	I love him. (He knows this and he loves you.)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this one 80% complete for...a year? There's nothing quite like avoiding family at Thanksgiving to jumpstart the creative process!

In the condensation from his breath against the cold glass of a library window, Albus drew a frowny face and watched the image fade from existence. Term was drawing to a close, but instead of his best friend/boyfriend sitting across from him in the crowded library, a first year Ravenclaw was muttering to herself over a charms textbook. Albus had briefly considered offering help before admitting that she probably knew more in her first term at Hogwarts than he knew in his six and a half years. She didn’t even look up when he slumped against the window and proceeded to doodle on it.

“Scorpius would have noticed,” he mused petulantly, thinking of his erstwhile companion, “He would have noticed, and reached across the table to add a moustache.”

The teen scowled. Here he was, in the last holiday season of his Hogwarts career, obligated- no, _forced_ \- to spend an entire evening studying in the library with only this anonymous Ravenclaw child for company while his boyfriend got up to who knows what with the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team. As if sensing his less than charitable thoughts, his tablemate looked up for the first time in hours and gave him a suspicious glance. A frisson of apprehension ran through the older student as he sat up straight. “Legimens???” he scribbled nervously in the margin of his notes. Remembering the horror stories his dad told about how the creepy old potions professor, the one who thought fancying his grandmother excused genocidal racism, could read minds, Albus frantically tried to broadcast, “I didn’t mean it, you’re an excellent study buddy, please don’t fall in love with my mum!” across the table.

Silence reigned for a few moments before Albus lost interest in feigning normalcy and slumped back against the window. Chill from the cold panes seeped through the left side of his body. Scorpius would most definitely be toasty in the Slytherin team’s clubhouse next to the Quidditch pitch, sharing pilfered firewhiskey and the warmth of a roaring fire. Were they having a grand old time? Of course. Was a teammate getting a little too friendly with the new Chaser? Without a shadow of a doubt. Did Scorpius even spare a thought for his boyfriend, who was languishing in solitude (in the middle of the crowded library) at this very moment?

Chimes signaling library closure in fifteen minutes dragged Albus out of his self-pitying spiral. Adding to the susurrus of students shuffling parchment and packing their things, the Slytherin seventh year stuffed illegible notes into his potions textbook, and then attempted to cram the book into his bookbag already bursting with class material he’d just barely skimmed. It was unfair to his everything-friend to wax melancholic about a couple hours of separation, not when the other boy had worked so hard for so long to finally just make the Quidditch team in their last year, and wanted to reap the rewards at their end of term party. ‘Party’ was even too bold a term for the seven members of the team and maybe a plus one or two sitting next to the locker rooms, passing a bottle of the cheapest spirit a galleon could buy. Scorpius, bless his heart, had immediately extended the plus one invitation to Albus the moment he had gotten back from the last practice before winter holiday. Really, Albus had no one to blame but himself for nursing sore feelings at a quarter to midnight on a Friday in December, having declined Scorpius’ invitation to join in lieu of hitting the books. He wanted to finish school proving James wrong and that he could, in fact, score higher than ‘just barely passing by the grace of Godric’ on term end exams.

Scorpius pouted upon being informed of his boyfriend’s scholarly intentions for that Friday, but was cuddled back into good humor after twenty minutes together on the couch closest to the fireplace of the Slytherin common room. Their impending departure at the end of the year quelled most of the ire their housemates had for their PDA, settling for grimaces and murmured reproaches for hogging the best couch as they passed by the two wrapped up in each other on ‘their’ plush green loveseat. The Malfoy name may not have held the same power in the Slytherin House as it did back in the day, but being _that_ sickeningly sweet couple was a timeless trick for impassable boundaries, social and spatial. Smirking a bit at the memories of his housemates’ glowering faces as they trudged back at the end of a long winter day to find the warmest, coziest spot occupied once more by the resident loners-turned-lovebirds, Albus patted himself on the back for showing real Slytherin gumption.

A pair of fifth years Albus recognized from the Hufflepuff choir leaned on each other as they shambled to the exit. As the lights in the library began to dim per charms meant to shoo students as the midnight hour approached, he caught sight of their linked pinky fingers on hands smudged with ink. The warmth of remembering a good spoon with Scorpius left him feeling like he was pressed once more against the cold glass of the window. From a dark corner of his heart, the problem middle child of the Potter family sensed a coil of something that felt a lot like jealousy unfurl.

What he refused to call jealousy wasn’t directed at the tired Hufflepuffs so much as a hazy ‘everyone else’ who’d noticed what Albus had known and lov- admired about Scorpius since day one upon his making the Quidditch team. He admitted it was a leap in association, this spark of negativity, between an innocuous pair of lovers and his malaise from the rest of his House’s newfound appreciation of his friend. There was no doubting Scorpius’ devotion to him, no fear that he’d be left in the dust of several months’ worth of marginally increased social standing before the end of the school year. These feelings were irrational, he knew, but sitting sequestered in the library for hours with minutes to midnight left, a general sense of ‘the same people who thought we were full of crap now want to hang out with my boyfriend and I hate them for it’ was overpowering. It wasn’t fair to Scorpius, who didn’t have the safety net of a large extended family and family friends to provide emotional support, to whom having school friends meant a great deal, to nurse this not-jealousy. Regardless, Albus was going to continue being bitter, and only feel a little bit guilty about it, just until he could no longer…

Hating that his face was growing hot and his eyes watery at the smallness of his character, Albus took pains to diligently repack the books in his bag in an effort to avoid eye contact with the other departing students. The little Ravenclaw first year had beat him in packing away study material, just like she would probably beat him in exam marks, too. Then, turning resolutely to face him:

“It’s alright to feel that way,” she said calmly, looking him dead in the eye, “and if he cares for you even a fraction of how you care for him, I’m sure he’s missing you, too.” With that, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left the table.

“Holy shit, oh Merlin’s beard, oh no,” raced Albus thoughts as he sat frozen in his chair, “she was actually-?”

Stumbling out of the library on legs stiff from sitting too long, Albus calmed down enough to consider the Ravenclaw girl’s words. She was right, of course Scorpius would be missing him, he invited him out and he, Albus, had declined. However, it was also nice to hear the first year Ravenclaw validate his feelings. Scorpius was everything he wanted in a partner in crime, but sometimes Albus wanted to talk about his feelings involving Scorpius with someone at school who wasn’t well, Scorpius. Mr. Malfoy was probably right when he called them “concerningly codependent” in the latest letter to his son, over which Scorpius and Albus had a good laugh. Who knew his shut-in, future father-in-law (yes, that was happening, Albus would make sure of it) had something insightful to say? Christmas miracles, etc., etc.

Feeling much improved from just that small interaction, Albus walked a little lighter down into the Slytherin dungeons. The Christmas garlands strung up on the bleak stone walls seemed a bit more defiant in their holiday cheer. He would sweep his lovely boyfriend into his arms when he got back tonight, and tomorrow, he would make an attempt to have a conservation with someone who wasn’t the same boy. It would be slow going, but Albus now had a better understanding of the value of going from socially awkward to awkwardly social.

But that was work for tomorrow. The night was not yet over, and he still had a tall blond to sweep off his feet. Hearing the sounds of tipsy laughter echoing from the dungeon depths, signaling the early return of the Slytherin quidditch team from their festivities, Albus spared a final thought for his mysterious study buddy before bounding off to retrieve his man.

_That girl should be a therapist. Thank you, random Ravenclaw child!_

**Epilogue**

In the Ravenclaw tower that same night:

“Ugh, I can feel someone stupid thinking about me.”


End file.
